The First Day
by Demosthenes23
Summary: Higgins is interviewed by Brackenreid for a constable position.


Inspector Brackenreid was sitting at his desk looking over Higgins application form and the results of his medical checkup. The mood wasn't exactly cheery, at least in his mind.

"It says here that your heart rate was unusually high." Brackenreid raised his eyes from the papers. Henry felt like he was being scooped out slowly. "I expect my constables to be in tip top shape." Higgins thought that was rich coming from him. It was obvious that the man didn't take care of himself as well as he should. "Care to explain that?"

"Well, sir," said Henry, shifting uncomfortably in the office chair, "it's just that I've never..."

"Never what, lad?" asked the inspector, confusedly.

Higgins looked away, and blushed.

Brackenreid laughed. "Dr. Ogden's an attractive woman."

Higgins mumbled something.

"Speak up son."

"I said, I wish someone had told me beforehand that a woman was going to be performing the medical assessment. I could have...prepared myself more."

Brackenreid chuckled again. "You're twenty?"

"Yes, sir."

"You'll gain experience soon enough." Then he winked and made a clicking sound at him, something Henry found rather strange and made him even more embarrassed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong or not, but do I detect a bit of an accent?"

"My mother hails from the Gaspé, sir."

Brackenreid made a bit of a face. "You're French then?"

_Is he a bigot?_

Higgins tried not to return the scowl. "I can speak the language fairly well, if that's what you mean."

They observed each other for a few seconds and then Brackenreid's expression softened. "That could be a useful skill to have around here. It seems like there's more and more of them showing up every bloody day!"

_Them? So he is a bigot?_

Henry remained calm and did not respond.

"So tell me lad," said the inspector, leaning back in his chair and raising his legs up onto his desk, "what made you decide to become a copper? The constabulary is a demanding mistress and there are plenty of easier professions to get into."

_What was that supposed to mean? That he didn't look man enough for the job?_

Sitting up even straighter in his chair, he puffed out his chest a little more. "Well, sir, my father was a copper. I thought I'd follow in his footsteps and try to make a difference like he did."

"He's retired then?"

"No, sir, he's dead, killed in the line of duty."

"My condolences son. It's always a shame when we lose one of our own."

"Thank you, sir. He was a good man."

There was an awkward pause. "Drink?"

They were in the middle of an interview and his superior officer was offering him alcohol? However, given the subject matter of their discussion, Higgins deemed it acceptable behaviour. Besides, it might take the edge off his nerves.

"Don't mind if I do, sir."

"There's a good lad," said the inspector smiling. He got up and went over to pour two glasses of whiskey from his rather large personal collection of bottles. It was almost as if the inspector had his own bar in his office.

_Was the man ever sober?_

Brackenreid handed him a half full glass and then settled back into his own chair, legs propped up, sipping it slowly. Though Henry wanted very much to down it, he followed the inspector's lead instead. The warm sensation currently spreading throughout his body was not unlike how he had felt when Dr. Ogden had examined him earlier that week. As far as he could recall, only his mother had ever touched his bare chest before. The experience with the doctor had been entirely different...and eye opening to the wonders of adulthood. For the hundredth time he wondered if she was single.

"What about your mother? Are you close with her?"

"As close as I can be, sir." This wasn't entirely true. For obvious reasons, she was not very supportive of his choice to join the constabulary. Currently they were not speaking. " But I don't see her as often as I'd like because she lives out in Hogg's Hollow." The inspector looked at him blankly. "It's a little town about an hour carriage ride from here. Up until very recently, I had called it home."

He took another sip. "So this is your first time living in the city?"

"Yes, sir."

"And how are you liking it so far?"

Honestly he was a bit overwhelmed. There were so many people and carriages and noises and so many marvels such as electric trams and street lamps on every corner. It was positively bewitching...and made him extremely uneasy.

But he didn't want to appear weak so he said, "It's very nice, sir."

The inspector nodded and sat upright again. Henry had a feeling that the real interview was about to begin.

"Your application says that you previously worked as a stock boy. What makes you think you are qualified for this position?"

Was he being serious? There were virtually no qualifications necessary to become a constable! You simply needed to know how to read and write and ride a horse. That was it. It was quite laughable and indeed, he had laughed a bit to himself while filling out the form.

"I'm a hard worker," -_when I want to be-_"I'm strong and fit,"- _for the most part -_"and I'm eager to help clean up the streets and show those criminals what for."

Instead of responding to that declaration Brackenreid enquired, "Been in the army, lad?"

If he had been, he would have said so on his application form.

"No, sir, never."

"What about hunting? Have you ever done that?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. Why do you ask?"

Brackenreid studied the contents of his mostly empty glass and swirled it around a bit before responding. "I like to know which of my men have taken a life before."

For some reason that statement made Henry gulp and he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Given that you've never killed anything before, do you really think you would be able to shoot a man if you had to?"

"You don't really think I'll have to do anything like _that_ right away, do you, sir?" The inspector scrutinized him and Higgins added hurriedly, "I'm sure I could handle myself, sir!"

"Glad to hear it," he said in such a way that made Higgins think he wasn't being sincere.

The inspector finished the rest of his drink and it was then that Higgins realized he had barely touched his. In order to catch up, he went with his initial impulse and downed the remainder. Not accustomed to such strong fare, (he usually only drank beer) he was a bit light headed after such a rush of alcohol.

Looking at him closely Brackenreid said, "Would you ever accept bribes or abuse your power in any way?"

"No, sir."

"Not even to help a dear friend?"

"No, sir."

Brackenreid smiled a bit. "So if you found a wallet on the street with, say...ten dollars in it, you would return it to its rightful owner, without a seconds hesitation, even if this friend of yours desperately needed the money?"

Wondering if this was some sort of trick question, he hesitated a moment and then replied, "No, sir."

Brackenreid's smile widened. "And if that same friend of yours stole some food in order to feed his family because you didn't help him out before, you would report him?"

Feeling rather confused he said, "No, sir?"

"Is that a question?"

"No, sir. I would report him. The law is the law."

Brackenreid was positively grinning now. "You're a cold hearted bastard, son!"

Higgins gaped at him and Brackenreid burst out laughing. He was too nervous himself to join the inspector.

Out of the blue Brackenreid asked, "Do you believe in the fantastical?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Martians and ghosts and all of that rubbish."

Higgins shook his head, mystified as to this line of questioning. "No, sir, not at all. I consider myself to be a very realistic person."

"Good to know."

Higgins gave him an enquiring look but the inspector didn't bite.

"Well, I suppose that's about all I need to know, son." He gestured out his side window. "Constable Crabtree will see that you get your uniform and boots. If you need any adjusting done, he's your man for the job."

Higgins made a face. What kind of sissy was this Crabtree fellow? It sounded (and judging by the looks of him) like he was much more suited to being a tailor, not a constable!

Brackenreid stood, and so did he and they shook hands firmly.

"Welcome to station house four, Higgins."

It was the first time the inspector had used his name and suddenly this whole thing was becoming very real, very quickly. He had dreamed of becoming a constable for years and making his father proud but had never actually expected it to happen!

"Is there a problem, lad?"

"No, sir, not at all."

Brackenreid sat down again and grinned. "What are you waiting for then?"


End file.
